Why I write
Posted 07-24-2015 at 04:52 AM by Stymie13
The circumstances with which I put myself in, currently, are less than optimal.
After a long and successful career in healthcare, strong relationships, education, and marriage, I decided to relapse. Many will state it is my disease, creeping and insidious. That is their right and their opinion. However, to be truly honest, I decided... After a divorce and ensuing financial difficulties, bouts of insomnia ensued. While manageable at first, after a year or so, I picked up a bottle. Manageable for a few months, as an alcoholic 'manages', the old familiar soon followed. The consumption amounts were rather disgusting.
I found myself in some legal trouble with which I did receive some fortune. My penalties could have been worse but 5 months of home incarceration was the extent. Also, I did receive very gainful employment as a healthcare/it/technical writer consultant, earning even more than my past 12 years. Biking 15 miles each day to work, in the worst winter Louisville had on record (40 + days of highs in the teens, lows in the single digits) helped humble and strengthen me. Fortunately my body snapped back full force from 7 months of alcohol poisoning.
Job was going great, I was released several weeks early from incarceration, my body fat back to 4%, life was improving. In late spring, I taught myself how to build a deck (very handy with tools)... I trained people on the side, not for the money but to share what I have learned in exercise science/diet with others.
My contract ended in early summer. There were several lined up so I turned down lower paying positions as I flew here and there for interviews. My relationship with a special person in the Midwest was growing stronger, finances and house secure...
After a month of interviews, nothing had happened quite yet. Slowly, surely, insomnia returned as my worries, self fueled, began to return. Finally, by Labor Day, after another setback securing a position, insomnia set in full force. Quickly this led to a deep depression and yes, the bottle once again. I didn't even try to mask it... I drank the first few days to sleep, then I drank to hopefully not wake up again... And when I did, I drank some more. Depression grew darker: if I did not pass out, I did not sleep. By November, legal trouble again ensued. This time, instead of skipping court dates, I laid my case over a few times, to once again try to drink to not wake up. My damn resilient body never cooperated however.
So through family, and my lawyer's, intervention, I faced the music. I went to court and got the sentence I'm currently on. I gave power of attorney to my mother and step father to sign off on the house closing as I'm incarcerated. I tied up my loose ends. My relationship with that special someone grew deeper, with marriage mentioned several times, from her end, before she abruptly ended it last week. I was given no reason.
I used to say, sitting in front of a laptop, conducting conference calls worldwide, working with vendors or hospitals or cms on billing, federal regulations, etc... That I would be happier digging ditches. Life/God, in an ironic twist, has me doing that. I am on work release from 5 am to 9 pm mon-sat. I haul buckets of earth and gravel, carry/mix concrete, run jack hammers and back hoes, and overall work like a dog in extreme heat all day. Thank goodness for the resilient body...
I'm exactly where my choices put me. From 6 figures annually, with 3 houses, to right at the poverty line and soon a sold house. From dealing with PhDs, mds, cpas, and attornies to those without a high school education (no judgement passed, I have learned a lot from them). From working from home or an office to slaving in 110 heat index, or thunderstorms, mud, and tight spaces. From planning marriage to the woman of my dreams to single. From eating my own meals to always eating, when I have time, on the go. And from sleeping in my memory foam to a correctional mat, I am right where I belong.
So please forgive me for my indulgence... I mean no pretention. I write now not to make money, nor persuade. Not to woo others or give advice. Not to say I have all the answers. I write now, sometimes in poems, because I'd write that special someone upon awakening. I write now to remind myself life can be good, even when situations are less than ideal, from my own making. I write now to hopefully convince the IRS that the 501c3 for an animal rescue staffed by addicts and alcoholics (healing hearts) is worth tax exempt status (upon my release). I write in the vain hopes that a special someone reads, and knows all the positive steps I made since we met were genuine, as were the good actions. I write now simply because, it is part of me.
After a long and successful career in healthcare, strong relationships, education, and marriage, I decided to relapse. Many will state it is my disease, creeping and insidious. That is their right and their opinion. However, to be truly honest, I decided... After a divorce and ensuing financial difficulties, bouts of insomnia ensued. While manageable at first, after a year or so, I picked up a bottle. Manageable for a few months, as an alcoholic 'manages', the old familiar soon followed. The consumption amounts were rather disgusting.
I found myself in some legal trouble with which I did receive some fortune. My penalties could have been worse but 5 months of home incarceration was the extent. Also, I did receive very gainful employment as a healthcare/it/technical writer consultant, earning even more than my past 12 years. Biking 15 miles each day to work, in the worst winter Louisville had on record (40 + days of highs in the teens, lows in the single digits) helped humble and strengthen me. Fortunately my body snapped back full force from 7 months of alcohol poisoning.
Job was going great, I was released several weeks early from incarceration, my body fat back to 4%, life was improving. In late spring, I taught myself how to build a deck (very handy with tools)... I trained people on the side, not for the money but to share what I have learned in exercise science/diet with others.
My contract ended in early summer. There were several lined up so I turned down lower paying positions as I flew here and there for interviews. My relationship with a special person in the Midwest was growing stronger, finances and house secure...
After a month of interviews, nothing had happened quite yet. Slowly, surely, insomnia returned as my worries, self fueled, began to return. Finally, by Labor Day, after another setback securing a position, insomnia set in full force. Quickly this led to a deep depression and yes, the bottle once again. I didn't even try to mask it... I drank the first few days to sleep, then I drank to hopefully not wake up again... And when I did, I drank some more. Depression grew darker: if I did not pass out, I did not sleep. By November, legal trouble again ensued. This time, instead of skipping court dates, I laid my case over a few times, to once again try to drink to not wake up. My damn resilient body never cooperated however.
So through family, and my lawyer's, intervention, I faced the music. I went to court and got the sentence I'm currently on. I gave power of attorney to my mother and step father to sign off on the house closing as I'm incarcerated. I tied up my loose ends. My relationship with that special someone grew deeper, with marriage mentioned several times, from her end, before she abruptly ended it last week. I was given no reason.
I used to say, sitting in front of a laptop, conducting conference calls worldwide, working with vendors or hospitals or cms on billing, federal regulations, etc... That I would be happier digging ditches. Life/God, in an ironic twist, has me doing that. I am on work release from 5 am to 9 pm mon-sat. I haul buckets of earth and gravel, carry/mix concrete, run jack hammers and back hoes, and overall work like a dog in extreme heat all day. Thank goodness for the resilient body...
I'm exactly where my choices put me. From 6 figures annually, with 3 houses, to right at the poverty line and soon a sold house. From dealing with PhDs, mds, cpas, and attornies to those without a high school education (no judgement passed, I have learned a lot from them). From working from home or an office to slaving in 110 heat index, or thunderstorms, mud, and tight spaces. From planning marriage to the woman of my dreams to single. From eating my own meals to always eating, when I have time, on the go. And from sleeping in my memory foam to a correctional mat, I am right where I belong.
So please forgive me for my indulgence... I mean no pretention. I write now not to make money, nor persuade. Not to woo others or give advice. Not to say I have all the answers. I write now, sometimes in poems, because I'd write that special someone upon awakening. I write now to remind myself life can be good, even when situations are less than ideal, from my own making. I write now to hopefully convince the IRS that the 501c3 for an animal rescue staffed by addicts and alcoholics (healing hearts) is worth tax exempt status (upon my release). I write in the vain hopes that a special someone reads, and knows all the positive steps I made since we met were genuine, as were the good actions. I write now simply because, it is part of me.
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